


Forgive Me Father

by BattrelaRage, SoloShikigami



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Fontcest, M/M, Religion, Religious taboo, Sans and Papyrus is not related, will add more tags later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 03:32:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7250257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BattrelaRage/pseuds/BattrelaRage, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoloShikigami/pseuds/SoloShikigami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when a priest is tempted to sin, by a clever punning sinner?</p><p>A sin-sans-ual drama unfolds.</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="http://66.media.tumblr.com/1625c5db289134e3a064a760216dbff4/tumblr_inline_o91qqnCvos1r82x55_1280.jpg">See the cover here! </a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A collaboration fanfic with SoloShikigami.
> 
>  
> 
> This is why I haven't updated Captured Heart. We hope you enjoy.

Chapter One: A Mysterious Encounter

 Papyrus knew he should be more solemn, but he couldn’t help it; he wiggled in his chair with a huge grin on his face. His newly pressed black and white robes wrinkled at his energetic motions and he looked down at the hardcover, black, leather-bound book in his hands, a golden cross staring back at him.

            “You seem to be quite eager for your first confessional, my son,” a voice stated sweetly with a thick tone to it.

            Papyrus head moved to face the directions the familiar voice came from. An elderly gentlemen smiled fondly down at the lanky skeleton, his salt-and-pepper hair combed neatly back, his blue eyes shimmered with kindness and love.  He was dressed in the same robes as Papyrus, but held a few special details showing his rank within the church.

            “I am! I will control myself better in a moment, it’s just I can’t wait to be of help to people here!” Papyrus claimed energetically as he tried in vain to calm himself.

            Father Lantom pat Papyrus lightly on the shoulder, the smile never leaving, never faltering.

            “The Lord has blessed me with your presence, Papyrus. You know what to do?” Lantom inquired. He already knew the answer, he just wanted one final confirmation from the overzealous new priest.

            “Yes, Father!”

            “May the Lord guide you, my son.”

            Papyrus jumped to his feet, nearly knocking the chair he was sitting in over. He gripped his bible and rosary tightly, sending up a quick prayer for guidance and nearly running to the confessional to settle in.

            “Do you think it is wise to let him do this, Father?” asked another priest, worriedly.

            Father Lantom chuckled. “It’s likely going to be a slow day; the rain and the cold have kept many indoors. I believe that it will be a good start for our enthusiastic beginner.”

           The seat within the confessional box was anything but comfortable. It was made with hard oak, formed a perfect right angle, and had little cushion in the seat. The small seat made it impossible for anyone to get really comfortable, which was a good thing because it kept the priest awake during Confession.

            Papyrus did not need it; he was far beyond excited for this moment. It was his first official duty as an ordained priest. Though, not unlike anyone else, his legs also lost feeling - even the most seasoned bishops went numb after long hours in this seat, so Papyrus didn’t feel too bad when his legs started to follow suit.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

            Sans had to grip the door handle with both hands and pull with all of his tiny might. Once the door was wide enough, he slipped inside, shuddering a little as the warmth of the church flowed over his chilled bones.

            “Well, I didn’t precipitate for my day to go like this,” Sans murmured to himself, chuckling at his own joke.

            Sans’ blue jacket was fairly new and while it would easily keep him warm in the coming winter months, it wasn’t very waterproof and he didn’t want to get it ruined quite yet. He glanced out the stained-glass window in the door to the down-pouring rain and shuddered again. He supposed that even though his shorts were long, reaching halfway down his calves, perhaps they weren’t the best choice in pants today. But, no matter now, he moved deeper into the building.

            Towering archways reached to candle-lit chandlers high above Sans, making him feel even smaller in the large structure. Elaborate paintings decorated the ceiling, his small footsteps echoed off the polished tile floor and the elaborate chiseled walls.

            Sans walked a little deeper into the church. He was glad there wasn’t a service, there were just a few people in the pews, it was mostly empty and no one noticed a little skeleton walking in.

            A sign caught Sans’ eye; if it was accurate, this was time set aside for confessions. Sans looked further down and could see that all the way to the left of the altar, there was a wooden structure with two doors. He watched an elderly human lady go inside. He never really caught onto a religion; they just all seemed so boring.

            Tilting his head a little as a thought occurred to him, Sans made his way to the front and slipped into a pew, picking up the book in the wooden bench in front of him and thumbing through the pages.

            He had to make his own fun, sometimes.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

            “Go in peace, dear sister, and put your faith in the Lord. He will watch over your darling Hildre,” Papyrus said gently.

            “Thank you, Father,” the woman said with a sniffle and she shuffled out of the booth.

            Papyrus smiled, looking up as he rubbed his wooden rosary beads between his bony fingers. He picked up the cross and pressed it to his forehead, sending thanks to his Lord for His guidance.

            “This is going so well,” he murmured to himself, pleased with how he handled himself thus far, but he couldn’t get carried away. He let out a long breath as he relaxed, clearing his head.

            The door opened again and he heard someone quietly sitting on the bench.

            It was quite dark in the booth, so he couldn’t see for sure who it was, but whoever it was, they were very short. Perhaps maybe even a child?

            Papyrus waited; usually the person would start out by saying “bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” however, all was silent. Papyrus was told that sometimes people needed a moment to gather their thoughts so he needed to be patient.

            But no words came out.

            Papyrus was beginning to worry after some time. He could hear soft breathing from the other person, but little to nothing else.

            “Are you all right, my child?” Papyrus ventured, leaning towards the screen opening between the two confessional boxes.

            “Hm? Me?”

            The voice was deep and rich and it definitely did not belong to a young child. Papyrus gently gripped the spine of his bible, the voice catching him off guard.

            “Yes, my child.”

            Odd that Papyrus still used those words.

            There was a soft laugh. Papyrus gripped his bible a little tighter, the laugh making him feel uneasy for some reason.

            “Nah, nothing wrong, I just wanted to see if anyone would notice if I came in here.”

            “Confession is for those who have taken communion; are you a Catholic?”

            “Nah, but I can still confess my sins if you’re interested,” Sans leaned against the wall. “Betcha I can make ya drop your bible.”

            Sans’ voice took on a tone that was very suggestive, and Papyrus did let his bible slip off his lap.

            “Damn, Father, I didn’t even say anything,” Sans said with a chuckle.

            “Mind your language, as you are in the house of the Lord,” Papyrus reminded him, bending down to pick up his bible. “There’s one sin. Care to confess any others?”

            “Hm, that is a good question,” Sans murmured, seriously thinking about it. “I can’t help but feel just about everything I’ve done is a sin, but I suppose it’s best to start small. I should tell you that I stole a couple of crabapples from a cart at the farmer’s market two weeks ago.”

            “Why would you steal crabapples?”

            “I was hungry and I didn’t have any money on me.”

            “Then you should have gone home.”

            “I left them money the week after.”

            “Ah, well, that’s good, then. You’ve repented for that sin.”

            “Oh, also, someone dropped their wallet, and I took it.”

            “Did you see who dropped it?”

            “Yeah, I didn’t say anything though.”

            “Is that where you got the money for the crabapples?”

            “No, I worked for that money. I did feel bad, though, about the wallet? I didn’t take anything out of it, but I did look up their address and left it inside their door.”

            “So you didn’t really take the wallet.”

            “I did for a little bit.”

            “I see. Anything else, my child?”

            Sans was getting a little sick of being called a child. He craned his neck out of frustration, causing a crescendo of pops. Papyrus shuddered and squirmed slightly in his seat.

            “Ah, here’s one for you; I had impure thoughts about someone last week.”

            Papyrus swallowed hard; he knew about these kinds of confessions of course, but it made him uncomfortable to hear about them.

            “Yeah,” Sans continued. “He was so hot. Oh, yeah, I should tell you, it’s another male, like me. I think I swing both ways, but I gotta tell ya, I’ve only met one girl who did anything for me. But this guy? Oh, man, he was a piece of art; lean, muscular, gorgeous black hair and deep brown eyes? Absolutely stunning specimen if I do say so myself, and the things I wanted to do to him…”

            Sans trailed off with a low hum.

             **THUMP!**

            Papyrus dropped his bible again.

            Sans laughed. “Are you okay over there, Father?”

            “Y-yes, my son,” Papyrus said with a shudder deciding to leave his bible there for now. He regained his composure. “Is there anything else?”

            “Yup, one more.”

  _Oh, Lord, help me._

            “I just lied to a priest.”

            Papyrus nearly ground his teeth in frustration, gripping on his robes.

            Sans chuckled. “This was fun. Maybe I’ll see you around, Father.”

            “Go in peace, my son,” Papyrus murmured mostly out of habit. He was in a bit a infuriated daze, but he kept his voice level.

            After a moment, Papyrus came back to himself, shaking his head he stood up with the intention of flinging open the door to find out who that was, but between being seated for nearly an hour on hard wood , getting up too fast, and forgetting his bible on the floor, he ended up collapsing against the closed door.

            Sans glanced over his shoulder, hearing the loud thud as he made his way back up the pews, and grinned.

            This really was going to be fun.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An exciting week in Papyrus shoes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BATTRE: OH MY GOD HEAVEN HELP ME! THANK YOU SOLO FOR HELPING ME FINISH AND FIX THIS CHAPTER IT WAS A MESS. 
> 
> Also so much religion in this chapter beware its also super long.

Chapter Two:  Pun-cutual Encounters

 

            Papyrus stared at the rosary in his hands his mind playing back the encounter with the mysterious person that had the gall to lie during confession. Who even does that? He pressed the cross to his forehead willing the thoughts away with his faith alone and hoped they wouldn’t come back. The attempt failing miserably and was enveloped more into the thoughts, getting lost in them.

 

          “Is something troubling you, my son?”

 

          The voice caused Papyrus to jump in his seat and his head spun to face where the voice had come from.

 

          “Oh, Father Lantom, it’s you,” Papyrus said as he sighed out of relief, then let his head dip back down in thought.

 

          “Is this pew taken?” Lantom asked jokingly, trying to relieve some of the tension he felt as he sat next to Papyrus. “In all seriousness, are you alright, Papyrus?”

 

          “Yes… No… I don’t know. Confession kind of got to me.”

 

          “How so?”

 

          “Well, when I stumbled out of the confessional earlier today, did you happen to see who left?” Papyrus looked up at Father Lantom with a bit a hope in his eyes.

 

          “No, my son, I’m sorry; I was leading someone through prayer. Did they say something that upset you?”

 

            Papyrus sighed. Of course he didn’t see him.

 

          “They said a lot of things, things I don’t even want to repeat, and they lied. Father, why would someone lie during a confession? What would someone have to gain from that?” Papyrus sat up straighter, annoyance filtering into his voice

 

          “I suppose they were trying to toy with you, maybe they recognized you were new. Was the confessional too much for you?” Lantom asked, adjusting his robes slightly.

 

            “No, no, I enjoyed it, it was just that one person that is bothering me,” Papyrus flipped absent-mindedly through his bible.

 

            “Perhaps the Lord is testing your patience, or your confidence. I suggest you rest for the evening and not think on it anymore for now. Tomorrow may bring you a new way to address it,” Father Lantom suggested, standing up. “If it remains a concern, you may always talk to me in the privacy of my office.”

 

            Papyrus nodded, still in thought, but he then shook his head to clear his mind and smiled up at Father Lantom.

 

          “Alright, thank you,” Papyrus beamed and stood up and brushed off his clothes. “I will see you for the morning mass, Father.”

 

            “I’ll pray for a goodnight’s rest for you.” Lantom assured him with a warm smile as he waved Papyrus off.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

            Papyrus awoke the next morning; he didn’t get a lot of sleep, but he was still full of his usual energy.

 

            The morning service went smoothly; there was the normal shuffle of kids in the pews unable to keep still, the murmuring of prayers, the choir singing hymns that resonated and echoed beautifully off the walls.

 

            Papyrus looked around at the faces of the congregation, a soft smile pulled at his mouth, but there was still a lingering thought that nestled in the back of his mind and distracted him. As he looked through the sea of faces, he tried to match that voice with one of them. Who had left him so flustered? Who would dare lie to a priest for humor’s sake? Why wouldn’t this person leave his mind?!

 

            The sound of bells pulled Papyrus back from his thoughts and he looked around as the pews began to empty.

 

            ‘Oh, dear, I missed out on nearly half the mass,’ Papyrus thought to himself. ‘I must speak to Father Lantom.’

 

            His superior was standing to the right of the altar. Papyrus slowly approached Father Lantom, not wanting to interrupt the conversation he was having with a young mother who held her new baby girl.

 

          “You want who to do the christening?” Father Lantom asked in surprise. He glanced over his shoulder, hearing Papyrus approach.

 

            Papyrus blinked in confusion and wondered what was going on. He smiled immediately upon hearing “christening” - he had been to a few christenings and it was always a sweet, uplifting feeling seeing a child being baptized into the church.

 

          “I would like Papyrus to lead it, if he can, Father. He is so sweet around the kids and I just feel that he should be the one to do it,” the mother said, smiling almost shyly at Papyrus.

 

            Papyrus’ eyes widened slightly as a soft shade of blush powdered his cheeks. The young lady stared up earnestly at Father Lantom, hoping that her request would be honored. Father Lantom gave her a loving smile.

 

          “I don’t see any reason why he couldn’t, that is, if you’d like to, Papyrus?” Father Lantom turned his head, arching a questioning eyebrow at the young priest.

 

            Papyrus’ face brightened drastically as he nearly squealed for joy.

 

          “I WOULD-” he caught his volume and coughed into his hand, and readjusted his stance to be more professional as he joined Father Lantom by his side. “I would be honored.”

 

            The mother smiled sweetly at Papyrus, giggling a little at his actions. “Thank you so much. I will meet with you later, Father Lantom, to discuss the date.”

 

          “That would be splendid, I look forward to hearing from you,” Father Lantom smiled, bidding the mother a good day, and watched as she walked off. “Did you need something, Papyrus?”

 

          “Hm? Oh yes. I was wondering if I could talk to you about yesterday,” Papyrus inquired softly and looked down, feeling a bit embarrassed.

 

            Father Lantom turned to face Papyrus and looked at him carefully. He got the feeling that the skeleton was still bothered by the incident in the confessional.

 

          “Do you want to talk in my office?” he invited softly, which was answered with a quick nod from Papyrus. Lantom waved for Papyrus to follow him as he headed for his office.

 

          ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

  Father Lantom’s office was of moderate size but with the collection of bookshelves lining the walls of various heights; from waist high to bookcases that went from floor to ceiling. Photos from around the world, knick-knacks, a few certificates, and a couple of decorative crosses covered the waist-high bookshelves.

    A stained maple desk sat in the middle of the room, two fairly comfortable looking chairs sat in front of the desk while a larger chair sat behind the desk. An old computer sat pushed off to the side of the desk, a closed laptop sat in the middle. The wine-colored carpet and goldenrod paint made the room feel very warm and inviting.

    “Have a seat.”

    Papyrus sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk and watch Father Lantom take his seat, resting his elbows on the desk and resting a finger under his nose.

    “Please tell me what is concerning you, my child.”

    Papyrus squirmed in his seat a bit before looking at Father Lantom.

    “Well, I don’t want you to take this as complaining, because I really enjoyed doing Confession, it was interesting to say the least, but it was just that one confessor has me a bit unhinged.”

    “What did they say?”

    “Well, it started off all right, small thing like stolen items, food and a wallet, all of which he repented for by either paying for the food and returning the wallet with everything intact. After that, it quickly went downhill… I didn’t have a problem with him telling me his less than pure thoughts but… _how_ he said it so casually, like how one would talk about the weather over tea, saying that he did things that would make me drop my bible.”

    “Did you?”

    “Did I what?”

    “Drop the holy book?”

    “Yes, a couple of times,” Papyrus’ head lowered.

    “To what?”

    “Um, well, when he said that he could tell me things that would make me drop the bible, the way he said it… and then he told me he had impure thoughts about another, proceeding to tell me in a tad too much detail caused me to drop it again,” Papyrus cheekbones glowed brightly. “And all of it turned out to be a lie.”

    “Are you upset that it was a lie?”

    “No! Heavens, no! Well, I mean, maybe a little? But I mean, really! Who lies to a priest during confession?”

    “It sounds like he was just trying to get to you, my son, nothing more. Are they part of the church?” Papyrus shook his head. Lantom let out an amused chuckle. “The nerve. The next time he comes to the confessional, you let me know, alright? It is annoying to have someone making a mockery out of a holy confession, but it must still work for he admitted his sin of lying, has he not? However, confession is still for those who are of the church; we’ll have to correct this matter, but all in due time.”

    Papyrus sat there staring at the floor. Father Lantom cleared his throat causing Papyrus to look up.

    “Don’t let it bother you so much, my son. I believe God is testing you. I have faith that you will rise to the challenge and meet it.”

Papyrus still looked a little distressed. Suddenly, an idea rose to Father Lantom’s mind.

“And speaking of challenges, Father Malory is going to Rome for a month and we need someone to run Youth Night. Would you be interested?”

    Papyrus face lit up. “I would love to! All the activities we could do, all the things we could cover!”

“Easy, Papyrus, we have planned out lessons for the whole month. If you want to do activity with the kids before the lessons, you can, but remember our resources - we can’t do too much.”

Papyrus looked like he was about to vibrate out of his seat.

“On Wednesday, Father Malory will be there to show you the ropes before he leaves. Also I will speak with the young mother we saw today to see what day she would like her daughter’s christening to be on.”

Papyrus nearly squealed with excitement - so much was happening!

“Are you no longer bothered?” Father Lantom asked.

 

“Yes, thank you! I don’t know why I even let that one person worry me so!”

 

“Who knows? Maybe you could have influenced the mysterious confessor to repent and they will join the church.”

 

“I would hope so! I hope that since he confessed about lying to me, maybe the Lord could be at work to lead him down a better path!”

 

“That's the spirit. Feeling better?”

 

“I do, I really do, thank you so much for listening.”

 

“It’s my job. Now I have some paperwork to go through so you are able to do Youth Night,” Father Lantom opened his laptop and it came to life.

 

“Right, I'll see you later Father.” Papyrus beamed before leaping out of his seat and bounding out the door. “Thank you!”  He called back as he left.

Father Lantom chuckled as he turned to his task.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Monday:

 

Papyrus stood in the middle of the pasta aisle at the supermarket, dressed in some casual clothes; well, as casual as a light blue button up shirt and a pair of slacks could be. He stared at the choices of pasta, trying to decide on which one to use for tonight's dinner.

 

A moderately loud ruckus in the next aisle cause Papyrus to tilt his head and listen in; he wasn't one for gossip, he just wanted to know what the fuss was about.

 

“Sir, you cannot consume that bottle of condiments,” a rather annoyed-sounding employee stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

 

“Easy there buddy it's only a bottle of ketchup, I'm gonna pay for it before I leave.”

 

Papyrus froze.

 

That voice!

 

“It’s against company policy - you have to pay for it before you eat it. Now, come with me to the front and pay for it now or risk being arrested for stealing. This is the only warning I'm giving you, sir.”

 

“Fine.”

 

Papyrus stood there looking at the two boxes of pastas in his hands before tossing them into his basket and bolting out of the aisle and into the other one.

 

Empty.

 

He rushed to the front of the store only to find two cashier girls chatting.

 

“Excuse me, did someone come through here just now and purchase a bottle of ketchup?”

 

“I’m sorry, sir, but I get a lot of customers through my line and it’s hard to remember every single one of them.”

 

“He just was up here.”

 

“So were five other people sir, I'm sorry but I don't remember what they all got.”

 

“It was only a bottle of ketchup!” Papyrus was getting a bit frustrated with this young lady, but he was being trying to be patient like he was taught.

 

“Didn't Morgan checkout someone with only a ketchup bottle?”

 

Papyrus face lit up.

 

“Yeah but they already clocked out and are most likely on their way home.

 

“Did you happen to see the customer?” Papyrus asked.

 

The girl looked down. “No, I couldn't see him over the patrons. I'm sorry.”

 

Papyrus face fell.

 

“No, no, it's all right. Thank you for your time.”

 

Papyrus turned and went back to his shopping, leaving the store with groceries in hand not ten minutes later. He let out a breath as he started to walk home.

 

CRUNCH!

 

His lifted his foot quickly from the ground to find he had squished an empty bottle of ketchup.

 

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Tuesday:

 

            The day started early, just like any other day, Papyrus rising soon after the sun did. He made a cup of tea to wake up before going out for his morning run, stopping at one of his favorite spots in the park to watch the birds while he caught his breath. He leaned against a tree as the birds pecked at the ground, listening as kids played before school. There was a buzzing from his back pocket; pulling out his phone he pressed the side button to answer the phone call.

 

            “Hello?”

 

            “Hello Papyrus, it’s Father Lantom.”

 

            “Oh, hello, Father! Did you need something?”

 

            “I just wanted to inform you about the christening we were contacted about earlier this week.”

 

            “Oh! All right, what’s going on?”

 

            “The mother, Angie, would like to have her daughter’s christening on Thursday, if that is all right with you?”

 

            “This Thursday?” Papyrus was a tad taken aback; he hadn’t expected it to happen that soon.

 

            “Is something the matter my son?”

 

            “No, no, I didn’t expect for date to be decided so quickly.”

 

            “Would you like for me to postpone it until you feel more comfortable?”

 

            “Oh, no, I’ll be fine, I just didn’t expect it.”

 

          “All right. I will see you Thursday, then. God Bless you.”

          “And you, Father.”

          Papyrus put his phone back into his pocket and leaned against the tree, letting out a sigh and a smile.

 

          The week is going to be an exciting one and Papyrus couldn’t wait.

 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wednesday

 

Papyrus arrived early to the church, he was so excited for the events that the night would hold. He hurried down the main walkway of the church and spinning on his heels to head to where the youth minister was held. He rounded a corner, not looking where he going, and bumped heavily into someone causing both to fall to the floor.

 “Oh dear, I’m so sor-” Papyrus faltered, he couldn’t see the person face because of the hood he had pulled over his head. That wasn’t what stopped him, though, it was the unmistakable skeleton phalanges that grasped at the hooded figure’s head.

 

 Another skeleton?!

 

 “Are you alri-” Papyrus started, but the figure jumped to his feet and ran around the corner. “Hey! Wait!”

Papyrus struggled to get up due to his cassock, but he managed and followed the mysterious skeleton around the corner only to see an empty church.

 

 “I don’t understand.”

 

 “Don’t understand what?” a deep voice boomed behind Papyrus, causing him to jump.

A large, muscular man with a fluffy beard, black hair, and emerald-colored eyes stared up at Papyrus. The man looked like the personification of a black bear, large in build, but cuddly looking like a teddy bear.

 

 “Father Malory? You surprised me!”

A chuckle rose from Malory, causing Papyrus to become a bit self-conscious.

  “I could tell. Are you ready for tonight?”

Papyrus nodded. “I am a little nervous, though.”

Malory wrapped an arm around him. “Come on, they aren’t that scary.”

Papyrus assumed Malory was talking about the kids, but Papyrus wasn’t worried about them, he loved kids. It was the figure that had escaped him.

 

Was it the same person from the confessional?

 

 Papyrus was ushered into a room with a dozen of kids sitting in a circle of chairs talking, mostly teens, but younger kids ran around playing tag in the room. One of the stopped and stared up at Papyrus. The boys brown eyes filled with excitement.

 

 “Mina, look, he really is a skeleton!” He looked to the little girl next to him, she nervously ducked behind the boy, only her pigtails could be seen from behind him.

 

 Papyrus crouch down to their level.

 

 “Greetings little ones, my name’s Papyrus, what’s yours?” He beamed them one of his winning smiles.

 “This is Mina, and my name is Tony. I thought the big kids were kidding when they said that you were a skeleton. That’s so cool!” The boy squealed and jumped up and down.

 

 “Listen up everyone!” Malory voice boomed throughout the room, causing the kids to look in their direction.

Papyrus stood up, looking into the sea of eyes.

“Father Papyrus is taking my place while I’m in Rome; treat him as you would treat me. Am I understood?”

 

A choir of ‘Yes, Father,’ answered Father Malory’s question. Papyrus waved a little nervously to the kids. A tug on Papyrus’ robe cause him to look down. A little redhead tugged eagerly at Papyrus, looking up at him with her freckle-dusted face. She looked to be about six years old.

 “Father Papyrus, why you a skeleton?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

 

 Papyrus hummed in thought; he should have supposed that this was a question that would come up but didn’t really ever think of an answer. He smiled when one came to mind.

“Well, why do you have red hair and adorable freckles?” he replied, giving her a light tough on the nose with his fingertip. She giggled and shrugged. “Because God made you that way, and he made me a skeleton; making us in his perfect image.”

The girl nodded, accepting his answer before running off and joining a group of other kids.

 

 “Father Papyrus is going to be shadowing me tonight, so be good for a change,” Father Malory said, giving the kids a wink. “To your seats, please, so we may begin.”

 

 The night went smoothly; after their lesson they played a game to enforce what they had learned and everyone seemed to be having a good time. Papyrus grinned, watching the kids enjoy themselves, and soon they reached the end of Youth Night and Papyrus marveled at how quickly the time went.

“So you think you can handle our little angels?” Father Malory asked.

“Certainly! They are all so precious!” Papyrus answered with a wide grin.

“See? Told you they weren’t so bad,” Father Malory leaned in and lowered his voice. “Just don’t feed them after midnight; that’s when they turn into gremlins.”

Papyrus blinked. “But they leave at ten, and are they parents aware of this?!”

Father Malory laughed and clapped Papyrus on the back. “I’m teasing you.”

Papyrus shook his head with a chuckle. “I see.”

He should have known he was being teased, but now that the children were no longer around to serve as something to focus on, Papyrus’ mind had wandered to the odd hooded figure.

“Father Malory?”

“Yeah?”

“Besides myself, of course, do you know any other skeletons?”

“Nope, you’re the first one I’ve met.”

“I see.”

Father Malory looked at Papyrus with concern. “Is everything all right?”

“Oh, sure! I was just curious!” Papyrus answered with a wide grin.

Father Malory could see the smile didn’t reach Papyrus’ eyes.

 

That night, Papyrus laid in bed thinking of the hooded figure and as much as he prayed for his mind to be at ease, he spent all night dreaming about them.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Thursday:

         

Papyrus stood on the dais in front of the four packed pews. Father Lantom stood to one side as overseer of the event but was not to intervene in it. A hymn echoed across the open spaces and he looked through the collection of faces look up at him. Swallowing hard, he looked to Lantom, gripping his rosary a bit tighter in his hands. He slowly stepped forward, a wave of nervousness washing over him and causing his knees to shake slightly.

“The Grace of Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all,” Papyrus said, reciting the opening prayer by heart.

“And also with you,” the congregation murmured in reply.

“Welcome and thank you for joining us on this most joyous occasion to welcome a blessed soul into the church,” he smiled at the crowd and looked to the mother who held a sleeping little girl.

Papyrus looked to Lantom who motioned for him to continue. A surge of reassurance hit him and his smile grew.

Sans opened the door to the church carefully. He had seen people going inside and he wondered what was going on. He was just trying to satisfy his curiosity, just like the other night when he saw a bunch of kids being dropped off. It wasn’t that he was hoping to get another look at the tall skeleton he spoke to in the odd booth. It’s not like he chuckled to himself anything he thought of the sound of the bible being dropped as he teased the religious figurehead.

He stood to one side of the doorway and peeked inside. There weren’t a lot of people, just enough to make him feel nervous and uneasy and not enough so he would go unnoticed. This was definitely some private ceremony and a pretty formal one it seemed as everyone seemed to be dressed up.

Sans looked up at the tall figure leading the prayers and couldn’t help a smile as he watched him proceed.

          After the prayer, everyone raised their heads and Papyrus pulled his Bible out from a pocket in his robe.  He flipped to a page marked by a little orange sticky note.

          “The holy text, it says…” Papyrus read through two passages of scripture, closing out each on with “this is the word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.”

          The gospel reading went smoothly, well as smoothly as it could; Papyrus always felt a little nervous reading out loud and worried about reading the words wrong. Papyrus slowly closed his bible and then looked to the collection of people in the pews.

          “Would the godparents bring forth young Ellisia for the Baptism.”

          A young couple, maybe a few years older than the mother, stepped forward with Ellisia in their arms.

          “Awww,” Sans couldn’t help murmuring.

          “Do you wish for Ellisia to be baptized?” Papyrus asked the godparents.

The pair in unison answered, “we do.”

“Faith is the gift of God to his people; in baptism the Lord is adding to our number those whom his is calling. People of God, will you welcome this child and uphold then in their new life in Christ?”

The crowd answered. “With help of God, we will.”

Sans found himself wanting to murmur in answer along with them.

“Parents and Godparents, the Church receives this child with joy. Today we are trusting God for their growth in faith. Will you pray for them, draw them by your example into the community of faith and walk with them in the ways of Christ?”

The mother and the godparents answered back. “With help of God, we will.”

Sans shook his head. He still wasn’t convinced by the idea of religion, but he had to admit it was neat to watch this tall skeleton at work; he was obviously passionate in his work, or at the very least he seemed to be the type of guy to like kids. Sans noticed that the baby didn’t seemed bothered by the monster, even hearing her giggling when Papyrus settled a hand over her forehead.

Cute was the only word Sans could find to describe the entire affair.

The baptism ceremony continued, a little fussing from the baby as water was poured over her head, but a quick murmur from Papyrus seemed to settle her again and he finished the ceremony.

“God has delivered us from the dominion of darkness and has given us a place with the saints in light. Walk in this light all the days of your life. Shine as a light in the world to the glory of God the Father, amen.”

“Amen,” the congregation answered.

With that, the ceremony was finished and Papyrus heaved a sigh of relief as everyone started to leave. The parents, grandparents, and godparents of Ellisia approached and congratulated him on a lovely ceremony.

“It was very good of you to do this, Father, thank you so much!” the mother said, beaming as she held her daughter.

“A pleasure,” Papyrus said, leaning down towards the baby. “She is a lovely child, I congratulate you and your partner.”

“Would you and Father Lantom join us for lunch?” the father offered.

“It’s appreciate but I must decline,” Papyrus answered. “I must prepare for mass this weekend.”

“We’ll take a raincheck, then,” the grandmother said.

“Again, it’s appreciated, ma’am,” Papyrus said with a warm smile.

The family thanked him again and turned to leave. Papyrus let out a heavy sigh as he watched them before Father Lantom placed a gentle hand onto his shoulder.

“You did wonderful, my son.”

“Thank you Father.”

“Are you all right? You seem sad.”

“My nervousness kept me from sleeping well, but I am happy, I promise.”

They exchanged smiles and Papyrus looked up again at the family. He squinted a little when he noticed that someone wearing a hood was shuffling out with the others.

It was way too warm that day for a coat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Friday:

         

An early rise, morning tea, a morning run, breakfast, scripture reading, lunch, work in his study, dinner, nightly exercise, nightly scripture read, then bed.      It was nearly the same routine every day. If anyone was to ask him, Papyrus would say he didn’t mind, but internally, he did feel a twinge of wanting a tad more out of life. A bit more excitement, an adventure, maybe trying something new. He was in no way bored of the priesthood, he just wanted something more to do in life that would spice it up a bit.

He couldn’t help wondering; was it a sin to think that? Was he being greedy? He could still have a life and keep with the priesthood, couldn’t he?

What was it he wanted, anyway?

That was the question he didn’t have an answer to.

As Papyrus stared at his ceiling that evening, that question was spoken over and over again in his head. As he tried to push it away, the hooded figure continued to spring into his mind. As he tried to push _that_ away, the voice he heard at the grocery store that he was certain matched the voice from Confession started asking the question.

With a grunt of frustration, Papyrus pulled his pillow from under his head and pressed it to him face as he sighed.

“Heaven, help me.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans return to confession just as Papyrus thinks he may be finally rid of the small skeleton.  
> Oh how wrong he is.

            Sans sighed as he shuffled down the street, his hands buried deep in his pockets. There was an odd bubbling in his soul; he hadn’t been feeling particularly well this past week and he couldn’t place his finger on why. He felt the pull to see the skeleton priest from the church that he had messed with that one rainy afternoon, but he didn’t want to reveal himself just yet; he wanted to have a bit more fun with him.

            A small game of cat and mouse never did anyone harm.

            He knew he had pushed his luck stalking around the church grounds, and he was so surprised to run into the priest that he had little choice but to run. It had taken him nearly an hour to get his soul to stop fluttering. The few people he spoke to (he couldn’t really call them friends, per se), told him that he was crazy and was definitely “barking up the wrong tree,” but he just couldn’t, no wouldn’t listen to the logic.

            Was it because this was the only other skeleton he had ever seen in town? In his life? Did he just have a thing for others in robes? Did he have some sort of sick desire in trying to corrupt what was looked at as incorruptible?

            Catty, the girl at the convenience store, said that he was in love, but that was ridiculous; besides, who would love a homeless bum like him?

            Regardless, Sans still found himself coming closer and closer to the church, climbing the steps, and quietly slipping inside.

            There were more people around this time. One on hand, that helped Sans to hide in plain sight. He took up a spot in a pew in the back, no one seemed to mind him

            _What else was new?_ he thought a bit bitterly, and looked around. The pews weren’t all filled, the ones towards the front were, though, and he wondered if the confessions had started or everyone was waiting. He could see another priest speaking with a family who were all dressed in black and looking very somber, and there was another speaking with a small group of teenagers.

            Sans’ soul felt like it stopped for a moment when a door on the side opened and shut and his attention was drawn to the tall, slender figure that stepped across the altar, black and white robes slightly billowing behind them as they walked.

            It was him.

 

            Papyrus gripped his bible a little tighter, pleased to see so many people in the church. He didn’t waste any time and he strode into the confessional booth and settled on the bench. He noticed that Father Lantom must have set a small cushion in there for him because he wasn’t greeted with the hard, wooden seat he met last time, but a fluffy softness. He made a mental note to thank him later, for he was certain his bones would be thankful for the small gift.

            Papyrus quickly lost track of time as he threw himself into his task; listening to parishioner after parishioner confess from small sins such as jealousy and hurting others’ feelings, one person apologizing for overindulging in their drink, guiding another through angry feelings against their partner who was found being disloyal, to helping a very young man through his first confession where he thought his worst sin was eating the rest of the cookies his grandmother baked.

            The young priest was feeling pretty good. He leaned back in the confessional with a small sigh, his thumb rubbing across his rosary, feeling a peace he hadn’t felt all week.

            “Bless me, father, for I will sin.”

            Papyrus nearly startled; he didn’t even hear the door open - or close, for that matter.

            “One night, I will come for you, and only you.”

            Papyrus blinked at last half of the statement, which was spoken before he could get his thoughts together.

            “Wha-?” Papyrus murmured, confused.

            “Heh heh heh, that was too easy.”

            Papyrus blinked, then inwardly panicked; he recognized the voice, the laugh, and just the general energy of the person sitting next to him in the confessional booth, hidden from him yet again.

            “It’s you,” Papyrus murmured, trying to keep anger out of his voice.

            “Yep, how’s it hanging, Father?”

            “You shouldn’t be here,” Papyrus said flatly. “Unless you are going to join the church, and I think it would do you a world of good if you did!”

            “Oh? Why’s that?”

            “This isn’t the proper time or place,” Papyrus said, taking a deep breath when he felt the anger welling up inside him at the indignation that this person was yet again making light of something as serious as confession. “You should come to service on Sunday, and after mass, perhaps we can meet then.”

            “Oh? You asking me on a date after mass, Father?”

            “It’s not a date!”

            “I already told you that I’m not into the whole religion thing, Father. Seems a little silly to me, praying to some invisible man up in the clouds.”

            “Everyone must have faith in something.”

            “I don’t. No reason to.”

            Papyrus blinked; this was new, and he was concerned how the other person’s voice dipped, sounding dark and resigned, dare he say lonely, even.

            “My son, that sounds like quite a dark thing to say,” Papyrus murmured, leaning a little closer to the window.

            “Psh, I think I’m older than you. Could you not call me ‘son’ or is this a priest thing?”

            Papyrus blinked. “I, I don’t know, actually.”

            “Well, knock it off, it’s insulting.”

            “Okay,” he looked down at his bible, twiddling his thumbs in thought. “I would still like to know why you say such a thing, not having faith. Why?”  
            The other sighed as they shifted. “And here I was coming in to mess with you.”

            _You’ve “messed” with me more than you realize,_ Papyrus thought in an almost bitter tone, but he stayed silent to allow them to continue.

            “Look, my life circumstances are less than desirable and there doesn’t seem to be much I can do to change it, and I just don’t see any purpose in it.”

            “That is unfortunate,” Papyrus murmured, one hand started fidgeting with his robes. “But perhaps God is testing you? You seem to be quite intelligent, I am surprised that you cannot find a way out of your situation into one that you would want.”  
            “Testing me? Huh, okay, how long do God’s tests last?”

            “Uhhh…”

            Silence filled the little wooden box for a good while.

            “Hey, sorry Father didn’t mean to rock your worldview, there.”

            Papyrus sat up a little straighter. “A simple question isn’t enough to shake my faith,” he said almost defiantly. “I may not have all the answers right now, but I do have faith that if you come to mass, maybe we can figure them out together.”

            The other laughed. Papyrus felt an odd stuttering in his chest; the sound was deep and rich and seemed almost out of place.

            “Still asking me out I see,” he could almost see the other shaking his head as he spoke. “Thanks, but no thanks, Father, church just isn’t my thing.”

            “Then why do you come to confession? You’re not even supposed to be here! And I’m not asking you on a date!” Papyrus shot back hotly.

            Papyrus could feel the frustration bloom forth again; why did this other person get to him so easily?!

            “Church isn’t my thing, but apparently, you are,” there was a slight shuffling sound. “See you around, Father.”

            “No, wait!”

            The other door opened and shut, and Papyrus moved quickly to leave his confessional, but the door was stuck. The wood whined in protest to Papyrus shoving and yanking on the handle.

            It took everything in Papyrus’ body to not scream.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

            “God is testing me, that must be it, he’s testing me, testing my faith, testing my patience,” Papyrus nearly stammered, as he walked back and forth in Father Lantom's office.

            Father Lantom watched patiently, though a touch worried, from his desk as the young skeleton paced before him.

            “That person returned, I take it?” he asked.

            “Yes! I do not understand why! Why must they do this?! Why must they make me so frustrated?” Papyrus was now throwing his arms in the air. “Do they hate me or something? Did I do something wrong to upset them? What is it?!”

            “I don’t know, but you’re going to wear a hole in my rug.”

            Papyrus sighed and dropped into one of the chairs in front of Lantom’s desk. “Father, I am terribly sorry, I just don’t know what comes over me when it comes to this person. I just get so riled up because I don’t know who it is that is doing this to me; I don’t even know for certain if it’s a human or a monster!”

            “I understand your frustration, Papyrus, but you really should know that there is likely nothing we can really do about it,” Father Lantom said. “Meditate and pray, I am certain that you will find a way to deal with this problem and your acceptance of things you cannot change.”

            Papyrus nodded, though he looked miserable. He slowly began to slouch down in the seat.

            “Is there something else bothering you, Papyrus?”

            “Y-yes,” he confessed. “I, well, last week I couldn’t stop thinking about this person. It seemed when I would push them out of my head, there they would be again. I was so certain I forgot all about them until they came into confession today.”

            “This all just happened, I would give yourself some time to process it before you jump to any conclusions or get upset with yourself,” Father Lantom stood, walking around his desk to put his hand on Papyrus’ shoulder, smiling down at him, warmly. “I want you to take the rest of the day off and just relax.”

            Papyrus sighed. “I’ll try, Father.”


	4. Chapter 4

          Papyrus was still nerved out by the time Sunday approached. Father Lantom had asked him to simply attend the Mass and didn’t give him any responsibilities for the day. The slender skeleton’s eyes searched the crowd, examining every face, crossing off any that he knew for certain couldn’t be his mysterious visitor, but there were simply too many people and the face began to blend the further back in the pews he tried to gaze. After some time, he gave up, thinking that he probably looked creepy staring out into the crowd the way he was.

          He smiled and shook hands and greeted familiar members of the congregation after Mass concluded.

          “Are you all right, Father Papyrus?” a kindly goat monster asked him.

          “Yes! I am perfectly fine!” he said a little more forcefully than he intended.

          “You seemed a little distracted today.”

          “I haven’t been feeling my best. I don’t believe I am ill, though, but thank you for your concern.”

          The monster still looked at him a little dubiously before departing.

          As the day came to its close, Papyrus got a slightly sinking feeling in his soul that he prayed would go away.

\-----------

          Papyrus sat in the confessional booth later that week, doing his job, gripping his bible tightly with each being that entered, only calming when he confirmed that it wasn’t his annoying visitor.

          He firmly ignored the disappointed feeling when it wasn’t him.

          Harder to ignore was the worry that bloomed when he ended confession without hearing that voice.

          Even harder to ignore was when he didn’t hear the voice the week after, either.

 

\----------

 

          Sans tried to make himself breath evenly; he could no longer deny that something was most definitely wrong. His bones ached, his joints felt like they were on fire, he was starving, moreso than usual, but even the smell of food made his middle churn painfully.

          It was raining now; a storm had moved in over the city, everyone was running for cover. Sans didn’t even have the energy to be upset with everyone running into him as if he weren’t there, or be worried that his jacket was soaked all the way through.

          Was it getting darker? This must be one hell of a storm.

          The bustle of the street from the footsteps to the wet sound of car tires against pavement faded into a low buzz, the cold rain sliding down his bones went completely unnoticed, and Sans only distantly realized that he couldn’t feel anything.

          He didn’t even feel the hard concrete as he collapsed against it.

          _Is this what Falling Down feels like?_ Sans wondered. _It’s not half bad, hell, people even seem to finally be concerned about someone other than themselves._

          Sans could only see shadows of people and monsters, he couldn’t hear the shouts, see their mouths move as they cried out, didn’t notice someone pulling out a cellphone, and he vaguely recalled a flash of red and blue before everything slipped away like rainwater down a sewer drain.

          His last thought wondered if the skeleton priest would pray for him.

\----------

          Papyrus sighed as he walked down the hospital hallway. Father Lantom had asked him to visit some of the people there; there was a new mother who had a very difficult birth and Papyrus had left her and her husband smiling, an elderly member of the Congregation who just needed someone to talk to, and an unfortunate passing of a stranger who wanted their last rites read by a priest.

          His mind settled back on the thought of his mysterious visitor. Papyrus couldn’t believe that he was upset over such a nuisance, but during their last visit, he thought he had finally come onto something that would be helpful to the odd stranger, perhaps found a wound that needed to be healed, maybe even the root to his irritating behavior.

          But maybe that was what drove him away; some people didn’t want to be healed, oddly content in their own misery. Papyrus had learned that hard lesson during his schooling, when he found one of his classmates was one of the sourest people anyone could ever meet, and while he pointed out all the good and positive things around them, they continued to be snarky and rude.

          Papyrus suddenly looked up and realized that he had accidentally wandered into the children’s wing; while the hospital was pretty strict with its security, no one would think to ask a priest where he was going.

          “Oh, dear,” Papyrus murmured, looking around. “Hmm, well, let me see if I can be of any help here. Maybe God has something for me to do here if I’ve wandered here without direction.”

          Papyrus did have a soft spot for children, after all.

          “Excuse me,” Papyrus said, smiling kindly to a nurse at the nurse’s station. “I thought I would ask if I can be of any service here before I leave the hospital for the day?”

          “You’re very sweet, Father,” the nurse said, returning the smile. “I think we’re all right, we actually have someone reading a book to some of the children. He’s been quite the hit.”

          “Oh?”

          “Yes. Actually, he’s a patient here himself, apparently. Wandered up here, picked up a book, and started reading.”

          “How wonderful, nyeh heh heh,” Papyrus chuckled. “Well, I suppose I will be on my wa-!”

          Papyrus was aware of the clamor of children coming from down the hall, but what got to him was the chuckle that followed their impassioned inquiries.

          “Heh, guess you guys got me on a roll.”

          “That’s such a bad joke!”

          “But he’s in a wheelchair.”

          “Tell us another story, Uncle Sans, please?”

          There was that chuckle again. “I guess you’ll _wheel-dle_ another story outta me, huh?”

          Papyrus’ eyes widened so much he thought they would crack. He felt the magic drain from his face.

          “Father? Oh my, are you all right?” the nurse asked, standing up.

          Papyrus then felt a slight tremor steal through his body and he wondered in a panic if he should turn around. Was his mind playing tricks? Could he handle the disappointment if he turned and found he was mistaken? He didn’t know what the other one looked like, how could he possibly-?

          Another chuckle and another horrid pun made the priest spin around so fast that a few papers on the nurse’s station fluttered to the ground.

          Sitting in a wheelchair, being pushed by three children with two others surrounding him, was a small skeleton monster in a blue bathrobe and pink slippers. His eye lights gazed up at Papyrus, his grin faded, and his eyes blanked out.

          Everything fell away and it was just the two skeleton monsters; the priest, Papyrus, standing before Sans the skeleton. The murmurs of the children went ignored, the sounds of the hospital faded to a dull roar.

          Sans gripped onto the armrests of his wheelchair tightly, unable to move otherwise, thankful that he was in a wheelchair otherwise he might have passed up from sheer panic. He was still quite weak, he couldn’t even push his own wheelchair most of the time.

          The small skeleton flinched when, finally, Papyrus took a step forward, then another, then one more before he dropped to one knee, putting his warm hands over Sans’, which where cold and tense from gripping so hard. Sans’ whole body was tense, wondering what the priest would do, what would he say?

          “Heavenly Father, bless this monster, please lend him the strength so that he may heal,” Papyrus murmured, bowing his head. “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy ghost, amen.”

          “Amen!” two of the children cried before they giggled.

          “All right, all of you back to bed, I believe you all have had enough excitement for one day,” the nurse said, gathering the children to guide them back to their beds. “Are you going to be all right, dearie?”

          Sans was still in shock.

          “I shall take him back to his room,” Papyrus said, rising gracefully and taking station behind the wheelchair and laying his hands on the handles.

          “Thank you. We’ll see you soon, all right?”

          Even if Sans could respond, Papyrus was wheeling his chair towards the elevators before he could.

          “Where is your room?”

          Sans finally snapped out of his somewhat catatonic state to look up. Papyrus wasn’t looking at him, rather at the fire escape map, as if it had the answer he was looking for.

          “F-floor ten, room eleven,” Sans stammered.

          Papyrus pressed the button, they waited for the elevator in silence, squeezed in with a doctor and a few other visitors, and then went down the hallway on the tenth floor on their own.

          “Do you need assistance when we arrive in your room?” Papyrus asked evenly and casually.

          It only relaxed Sans a fraction.

          “Not really, I, I should be able to manage.”

          “Hmm, the words ‘should be’ tells me you do need assistance.”

          “I’ll be all right.”

          Papyrus gave another huff, sounding all disapproval and exasperation.

          The arrived in room eleven and Papyrus parked the wheelchair by the bed, which seemed like it was up pretty high for someone of Sans’ small stature.

          “Are you sure you do not require assistance?” Papyrus asked, glancing between the bed and the small monster.

          “Maybe it’s best I stay in the chair,” Sans murmured, resting his elbow on the armrest and propping his head on his hand.

          “Very well.”

          Papyrus turned the wheelchair around before moving to pull a chair sitting alongside the wall closer so he could sit in front of Sans, his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on folded hands as he leaned forward.

          “So, ‘Uncle Sans,’ my name is Papyrus. I believe we have a few things to discuss.”

\---------------------------------------

Author's note: sorry for such a long hiatus everyone, and thank you for following this fic XD I don't think the two ever learned the other's names yet, Sans just knew what Papyrus looked like, but that was it I think? I didn't go back to check, so, forgive me for that indiscretion if there is indeed one.


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